


Heart of Gold

by myticanlegends



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Alternate Universe - Olympics, F/M, Friendship, Hearing disability, Hurt/Comfort, Ice Skating, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Joseph Kavinsky Being an Asshole, M/M, News Media, Recovery, Slow Burn, Tags to be added
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-13
Updated: 2018-05-14
Packaged: 2019-04-22 12:50:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,374
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14308986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myticanlegends/pseuds/myticanlegends
Summary: Adam slipped on his skates and slid out to the practice rink, ignoring those around him as he focused on his glides. Most of those on Team USA had been to the Olympics before but Adam… Adam had something to prove both to himself and those around him. They all did in a way, but no one more than he.Once in a steady pattern, he leapt in the air for a triple axel, twisting his body so he landed on one blade. He practiced a few more jumps featured in his performance, a couple extra for the hell of it, and stumbled only once. When finally he found himself able to focus on those on the Olympic rink around him, he immediately was met with a pair of icy blue eyes staring at him from across the ice.The man was tall and lean, the definite body of an athlete, with a buzz cut and a cutting glare. He wore all black and Adam didn’t have to see the whole thing to recognize the jagged edges of a tattoo twisting over his shoulders. Ronan Lynch - Ireland skate champion.(Aka I started this when watching the Olympics and am a couple months late)Updates will attempt to be every Monday.





	1. introduction

_With the latest Winter Olympics coming up, ice skating has been a prominent topic of discussion for the USA teams. After being beaten out by the Russian and Canadian teams in the world championships, and placing third, it begs the question, who does the US have up their sleeve in order to win gold?_

_Most impressive on their docket are Richard and Helen Gansey, brother and sister duo and the children of current US senator Elene Gansey, who have used their well known connections to build themselves up in the skating world since they were very small. That’s not to say their attention isn’t warranted, they are predicted to medal in this years pairs event._

_Blue Sargent and Henry Cheng, both Olympic singles champions, have combined to make an odd ice dance couple over the past few years, and a hopeful one. “I think Henry and I wanted to try something new,” Sargent says of their friendship. “We met throughout competitions since we both started and got to practicing together. Ice dancing was really just the next adventure for us.”_

_In women’s singles skating, hopes are placed on Orla Sargent, who has been skating with her cousin since they both can remember. The last Olympic season Orla Sargent had not been invited, sticking to supporting her cousin from afar, but now that Blue Sargent has joined ice dance, Orla is claiming this as her time to shine._

_But most competitive this year will be men’s single skating in which it’s unclear how results might end up._

_Ronan Lynch from the Ireland team, son of renowned figure skater Niall Lynch who passed away last season, is looking to be strong contentor for the gold after a series of skates that left audiences reeling. His rivalry with Russian figure skater Joseph Kavinsky is looking to meet its very highest during the competition._

_A wild card in the competition is Noah Czerny, skating for the Czech Republic, who last Olympic season caused waves when UK competitor Barrington Whelk physically knocked him out of the rink. Czerny was in a coma for the rest of the skating season while Whelk was disqualified from any further competitions. While Czerny admits he might never have the same physical ability, his presence is a promise of a soulful performance._

_And skating for Team USA is Adam Parrish, the recent champion in nationals who seemed to come out of nowhere a couple years ago. It is unknown how he will fare in a worldwide competition but his elegance and otherworldly elements to his previous skates guarantee him to be someone to watch out for._


	2. Practice Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Armed with talent and a supportive crew of US skaters, Adam Parrish has made it to the Olympics. Now all there is to do is prove to the world - and to himself - what he can do.
> 
> Competition though, might be something to be reckoned with.

Adam slipped on his skates and slid out to the practice rink, ignoring those around him as he focused on his glides. Most of those on Team USA had been to the Olympics before but Adam… Adam had something to prove both to himself and those around him. They all did in a way, but no one more than he.

There was silence from one side of the rink that wasn’t from lack of people, but rather lack of the ability to hear them.

Adam had been seven when one of his teachers, in an attempt likely to keep him from home for longer periods of time, introduced him to a skating coach. He had been fourteen when he was invited to his first major competition, junior nationals, and his father had found out through the mail. That day, through a blur of fists and red, Adam found himself half-deaf, poor, and unable to skate with the balance the sport demanded.

He dropped out of juniors.

Adam moved in with Persephone Podma, his skating coach, and met Blue Sargent as she flung her way through competitions while he remained on solid ground. It was much better that way, he decided. He could be a scientist, or an engineer, or something that didn’t involve the function of both ears. 

It was Blue who had convinced him to give it another shot. She was calm while he was angry- angry at himself, angry at the world, angry at his father for ruining everything he had worked towards- and yet she tried. But she got angry too sometimes, more towards his own anger than her own efforts to help, much like his own anger at his own failing efforts to try than her efforts to help. But it was her anger that got to him to most because that was how Adam Parrish responded to things. Anger pushed him forward, and ambition, and bitterness, and wanting to feel the freedom of wind beneath his feet until he could reach for the stars.

He made it into junior nationals again three years later. Almost too late, a little too slow for his liking, but then he had won, and suddenly a few years later, he was at the Olympic Games.

Free. Unrestrained. Recognized for his talent but not enough. It sometimes felt like it was never enough.

Once in a steady pattern, he leapt in the air for a triple axel, twisting his body so he landed on one blade. He practiced a few more jumps featured in his performance, a couple extra for the hell of it, and stumbled only once. When finally he found himself able to focus on those on the Olympic rink around him, he immediately was met with a pair of icy blue eyes staring at him from across the ice.

The man was tall and lean, the definite body of an athlete, with a buzz cut and a cutting glare. He wore all black and Adam didn’t have to see the whole thing to recognize the jagged edges of a tattoo twisting over his shoulders. Ronan Lynch - Ireland skate champion. He looked like he’d be a better fit with the dark Russian crowd than the usual red headed curling team Adam often associated with Ireland.

Adam quickly turned away, only to find himself seeing the rest of the US Olympic Team entering the rink. 

“Adam!” Blue cheered brightly, gliding over with Henry Cheng at her shoulder. 

“Blue!” Adam greeted, kissing her lightly on the cheek. 

Blue smiled kindly at the gesture, knowing what level of comfort it took for him to get there, before asking, “Are you excited!? Your first Olympics!”

“It’s your first in ice dance,” Adam reminded her. “Are you nervous too?”

“Nah,” Henry answered at the same time as Blue said, “Of course.”

Blue then huffed fondly and hit Henry’s shoulder with her free hand. “Liar. All you’ve been doing is whining this morning.” She took on a surprisingly good impression of Henry as she started asking frantically, “What if we mess up? Should we go over it one more time? What if we beat Canada?”

Adam snorted. “Isn’t your mother from Canada, Cheng?”

“Your mother would kill you if we beat Canada’s team,” Blue said solemnly.

“ _What if we beat Canada?_ ” Henry repeated in horror.

Blue cackled as she skated and Adam allowed himself a laugh before she shrugged. “I’m just aiming to be on the pedestal. Some of the other teams have been ice dancing their whole lives together. Henry and I have a total of three years.”

“You’ll do fine,” Adam assured her.

Blue smiled and patted his hand as if saying the same back to him but without any words. A few years ago it would have made his heart flutter but now, after a couple months of dating and a few bits of trial and error, he was just glad for her never failing company.

Henry, meanwhile, still looked horrified. “What team do I root for?”

“I’m pretty sure that you’re supposed to root for the country you’re skating for,” Adam pointed out.

Henry shrugged. “Well, yeah, but I’ve still got some Canadian pride.”

“The Canadian’s have some pride in you,” Helen said, skating gracefully into their circle, twisting backwards to talk to them. “I’ve been reading the news. If you two win, they’re probably going to be claiming it’s because of his Canadian roots.”

“Hey!” Blue exclaimed as Henry said, “I wouldn’t mind.”

“Don’t you dare,” Blue exclaimed, swinging around to face him as she glided backwards by Helen’s side, waving her finger threateningly. “Take my victory away from me.”

“Did you guys notice Ronan is watching us?” Gansey commented not-so-subtly as he joined their gliding circle.

“Lynch?” Henry asked, equally subtle as he looked behind them. “He’s checking out the competition. Parrish here is a wild card.”

“Can we please not do that weird dudebro last name thing?” Blue asked but she seemed to say it only for the sake of saying it now days. She looked over in Lynch’s direction anyway and immediately her eyes filled with mirth, “Looks like the competition isn’t the only thing he’s checking out.”

Adam resisted the urge to glance over and see where Lynch was looking. It was likely Helen, with her presidential hair and athletic leggings, that seemed to catch everyone’s eye. It could also just as easily be Blue, all wild hair and bright costumes, or even Gansey, who seemed out of place picturing him on the ice until he was on the ice itself. Hell, it could have been Henry who Adam knew always caught the media’s attention somehow. But it would not have been plain old country boy Adam.

Helen looked between them all and whether to change conversation or just because she decided it was a good time, she waved them off out of their circle. “Go practice skating, you three. Gansey, we need to practice that lift.”

Gansey sighed as if this was a lot to ask or as if he had been expecting it, and took his sister’s hand to lead her out of the ice. If Blue’s eyes tracked his movement slightly more than usual, Adam didn’t mention it.

Blue sighed too, for likely unrelated reasons than finding practice tedious, and turned towards the remaining group. “Orla is late again today,” she told Adam. “Don’t wait up for her.”

Adam nodded and as soon as Blue got the acknowledgment, she turned towards Henry with a playful haughtiness, offering him her hand. “Want to dance?” 

“Absolutely, Blueberry,” Henry grinned, and off they went.

And now it was Adam’s turn to sigh as he went over his routine in his head. He let his blades carry him around the rink with a graceful speed, and began to practice his jumps again. In the corner of his eye, he caught sight of a spinning blur of black, landing on one simple blade with a careless precision from the same jump Adam had just done himself. 

He couldn’t help but pause in his pattern to watch the other man immediately move to step into another leap, a double this time, before landing and twisting face Adam with something resembling a smirk as he skated away backwards. _Asshole_ , Adam couldn’t help but think. _Goddamn he was beautiful_ , the artist within him murmured.

Never one to turn down a challenge, or fail to see one in something that might not have been, Adam let himself fly along the the side of the rink and leap. A twist, the careful balance of his blades, the gravity that sometimes allowed him to deny it when he pushed off another leg again into a twirl. This was what he had started skating for- this feeling that nothing could hold him back and the wonder that he was able to do something he never would have dreamed.

With another careful spin, Adam glided forward to find himself with a raised eyebrow coming directly from who he had been hoping had been looking. Lynch looked a little smug, a little impressed, and very arrogant all at once. Adam cocked his head in return which only caused Lynch’s smirk to grow.

“Adam Parrish,” he bite out, at his side in a couple short movements. “America’s favorite trailer hick. You haven’t been at any of the global competitions.”

Adam’s pride in his skating and admiration in the other skater immediately dissipated at the tone of his voice. As if he were thinking Adam were lower than him for having never met him before or for where he grew up. _Asshole_ , the sane part of his brain reminded him again.

“I had an injury,” he said shortly.

“At all the other competitions before?”

“I never qualified globally until a couple years ago.”

Lynch grunted in response as if taking in this answer. It seemed to settle with him because he shrugged carelessly and said, “Your loss, I guess.”

As if cued, a giant white shadow smelling of smoke and something rotten came up behind them and threw an arm over Lynch’s shoulder and thumped Adam’s back. Unable to hear the man come up behind them and no way of expecting it, Adam flinched away the minute a hand hit his back, harder than he would have liked, causing him to spin in a jagged circle to see his assailant.

Joseph Kavinsky, Russian men’s figure skating champion, was leaning up against the sturdy form of Lynch as if he owned him, and was cackling at Adam with a sneer. “Lynch, you found yourself a new skater toy? He’s a skittish little bastard, isn’t he?”

Adam knew this type of person. If Lynch was an asshole, Kavinsky was the devil. He was the type of person born with fire in his veins and anger that flowed to everyone around him. Adam’s father had been that type of person. And now he had to deal with one here.

He simply glared and chose to say nothing in defiance.

“Oooh,” Kavinsky whispered with dramatic loudness, still leering. “Does he speak Lynch, or did you get yourself a broken one?”

Adam gathered his thoughts and everything he had read about his fellow men’s skaters before speaking, “I’m just speechless that you somehow made it to the Olympics with your doping records.”

Kavinsky blinked, slower than anyone would have if they _weren’t_ high, and his expression shifted to one of a subtle anger burned behind his eyes. For a brief moment, Adam recognized the expression of someone who was unpredictable in their anger and without noticing, he had shifted into a defensive position. He was ready to skate away when suddenly Kavinsky burst out laughing.

“Fuck,” he cackled. “You’re a little smartass, aren’t you?” He dragged his face closer to Adam’s and whispered in his ear roughly, still smelling of smoke, “You really don’t know how things work around here, trailer trash. I suggest you figure that out.”

Adam reeled away at the touch, still feeling the print of a dirty hand on his shoulder and the heavy breath of Kavinsky on the side of his cheek. He almost wished Kavinsky had chosen the other ear to whisper into so that he didn’t have to hear his insults. But his fatal flaw had always been pride, it was better to know than to be ignorant of his enemies. 

Before Adam could say a word, Kavinsky winked snidely and draped himself over Lynch again. Adam would have forgotten his presence if not for the way he made it impossible- all sharp edges and posture. Lynch had watched with unreadable eyes and a bored expression. “Speaking of which, Lynch. Sundown. My place.”

“I know the deal,” Lynch said impassionately.

“Just a reminder,” Kavinsky said in a way suggesting it wasn’t merely a reminder. “Sometimes you’re forgetful.”

Lynch tossed him a glare and skated out easily from under him, only briefly causing Kavinsky to stumble for balance, and Adam almost wished he would fall on the ice. Unfortunately, as one would hopefully expect from a world champion figure skater, Kavinsky didn’t.

“I’ll be there,” Lynch bit out. “I always am.”

Kavinsky only raised an eyebrow and skated away, his blades digging into the ice with every movement. Adam didn’t bother trying to figure out whatever relationship he had with Lynch beyond the basics that had been provided. He had already wasted enough of his practice time stuck in that interaction.

Kavinsky’s words still echoed in his head. _Trailer trash._

Lynch turned to Adam as if to say something but Adam was already done with whatever he had been caught up in. He didn’t care. He was hurt and angry. The point of the Olympics had been to prove he was something more than the idea of a rural boy from Virginia that seemed to follow him. 

“Thanks for your help,” he spat bitterly before Lynch could say a word. 

“You handle it fine,” Lynch shrugged.

“Great,” Adam said sarcastically. “Why don’t you find other friends than that asshole? I’ve got to practice my skate.”

Lynch studied him for only a brief second before glaring and turning on his heel to skate in the other direction allowing Adam to take a deep breath once alone. He didn’t feel like skating anymore. But he knew he had to if he was going to get better and if he was going to prove anything to anyone.

Adam focused on a breath in, and then one out. Then, carefully, feeling as if he was made of lead, he picked up speed and aimed for another jump.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I have the first couple chapters written out and hopefully I can get into a weekly schedule. However with finals coming up, chapters might be sporadic until the summer. This is looking to be a long one, folks.
> 
> If Adam Parrish had a song, it’d be “Never Enough” from the Greatest Showman.


	3. hearts melting

_We’re here with the USA Olympic team the day before the team events. It’s up to all of their strengths in order to place on the pedestal, and they seem to be feeling very confident in their abilities._

_What can you tell us as to what to expect, especially with so many who have not been competing in these Olympic categories before?_

_“We’ve all been practicing very hard for this,” Gansey says, immediately stepping up into his presidential role. “We’ve all earned our way here to represent our country and we will be trying our very hardest.”_

_“That being said, you only have the chance to go to the Olympics so many times,” Henry adds with a grin. He is a cheerful presence in the group. His partner Blue rolls her eyes as if doubting his easy confidence. “We’re here to have fun and show what we’ve got.”_

_It’s hard not to claim that each and every competitor has earned their way there. The best of the best will be competing tomorrow, does that make you nervous at all?_

_“It absolutely does,” Blue immediately says. “But at the same time, I’ve spent a lot of time working towards this and I’ve done the Olympics before, so I just want to spend some time doing what I love.”_

_“I think our practice should speak for itself in the competitions,” Helen asserts. But it’s hard not to notice Adam Parrish at her side who is looking thoughtful but in the end, he says nothing._

_Are those thoughts any different for those who are here for their first Olympics?_

_Orla Sargent pops her gum before replying, “Well, yeah, I missed last season’s Olympics because I didn’t make it onto the final team. Now that I made it, it’s gotta be worth it. It’s going to be fine, obviously, but there’s still millions of people watching.”_

_Finally, Adam speaks up, looking as if he’s thought through every word, “I think that the size of the audience affects everyone, for better or worse. There’s a lot more pressure here in other competitions.”_

_It’s a reminder that while Adam is not new to the competing scene, he did miss last year’s global competition and dropped out from his first juniors due to something only vaguely acknowledged as hearing problems. He spent years off scene before appearing again a couple years ago._

_Blue swoops into the conversation with a, “There’s always that moment before stepping onto the ice where you know you’re next and you’re waiting for the music to start. That’s the worst part. And it never completely goes away, Olympic champion or not.”_

_Having gotten three points away from winning the bronze and the pedestal last Olympic season in the women’s skate, Blue knows a lot about the pressures of the skate. This year, with Henry at her side, she looks a lot more relaxed in a team setting._

_Any hopes for this year?_

_“To best represent our country,” Helen says, sitting properly with a winning smile._

_“To dance like nobody's watching,” Henry grins, and throws his arm around Blue._

_“To try new things and share them with the world,” Blue adds, pulling Adam into their circle of arms._

_“To see if I can beat Blue’s score from last year,” Orla jokes, before popping another bubble in her gum._

_“To keep improving and learning more,” Gansey says, and Blue glances approvingly at him._

_“To see how far I can go,” Adam ends honestly, and then he smiles, full of polite southern charm, and around the world you can hear hearts melting._


	4. Day 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s day one of the Olympic ice skating competition and Adam Parrish is one of the first on the ice. With so many talented skaters, the competition will be a tough one but Adam has always been one to stay ahead.

The team event was first in the numerous figure skating events meaning that the hotel was busy that morning.

“Orla!” Adam could hear Blue screaming from the room next door. “Why are your press on nails in the sink!?”

There was a clattering and some semblance of a conversation on the other side of the wall as Adam sighed. Henry merely grinned as if saying, that’s my partner, before gelling back his hair in some sort of signature poof. For only Adam, Gansey, and Helen competing that day, it was the others in their team that seemed to be panicking.

“Are we sure we can’t get some eyeliner on you?” Henry asked as he finished up his extensive hair routine. Adam had only brushed his back with enough gel to keep it out of his face and called it good.

“I’m sure, Henry,” Adam insisted.

“It is very fashionable these days,” Gansey said from where he was adjusting his performance costume - something resembling a suit. He was the perfect image of a politician’s son, if it weren’t for the skates he had on a nearby counter. He was good at what he did, very good, and always looked professional doing it.

Adam wasn’t sure if he himself did. But he was presentable and competition ready at the very least which was sometimes the best he could do.

“So I hear,” Gansey added thoughtfully.

“Why don’t you wear eyeliner then,” Adam asked pointedly.

Henry scoffed. “Parrish, please. He would not look good in liner. You however… people should see those gorgeous blues.”

Adam scoffed right back at him, “I said no, Henry.”

“One day,” Henry threatened with the eyeliner pen. “You’ll wear it and never go back.”

Adam highly doubted it. Until then, his costume was simple. Light fabric, black bottoms, a light blue shirt with a design like feathers. His hair was still a soft dusty brown, just held back from his face. Simple, easy, elegant. And makeup free.

He left the room before Henry could threaten him with mousse, finding himself in the hallway with Blue huffing at the door next to his. At his raised eyebrow, she explained grumpily, “Orla is a room hog.”

“Where’s Helen?” Adam asked.

“She woke up early to beat Orla to the bathroom and has been ready for an hour. I think she’s almost finished with breakfast.”

That sounded like Helen.

Helen greeted him with a nod in the hotel breakfast bar while all sorts of competitors clambered around them in order to get their own food. Those in the pairs and men’s events were dressed up but others were dressed in the colors of their country. America, Britain, Russia, Canada, Germany. Adam had never seen so many flags or people from all over the world.

Adam had never liked the collective stress before a competition that seemed to hover in the air above giant groups of people. The noise had always prominently reminded him of the loss in one ear and heightened his own nerves.

He was quick to grab a plate of eggs and fruit for the energy, along with a granola bar, and found his way to a small window alcove in a faraway hallway.

Gansey, neverfailing in his ability to find his friends, met him there a couple minutes later and they both stared out the window in silence. Adam had never traveled much before competing. He had never gotten free continental breakfasts or walked around with the knowledge that he might be recognized. It was hard to get used to, even now.

“You ready?” Gansey asked after a minute, placing a hand on Adam’s knee comfortingly.

Adam took a deep breath and looked away from the window. He didn’t know if he ever would be or how he would fare in such a global competition. But if he always waited for when he was ready, he never would have gotten anything done.

He nodded.

* * *

Adam was seventh on the docket. Although it was the team event, only the men’s skate and the pairs skate were today, and the men’s team went first, which meant Adam was also seventh out on the ice in general. He supposed it could be worse. He had a little time to calm his nerves. At least he wasn’t first.

The men’s skaters seemed to converge on one side of the ice after a short practice skate where they all caught up with old friends from other global competitions. It was a friendly atmosphere if not a little anxious. But there was also so much excitement radiating off of the gathering crowds that Adam couldn’t help but be a little excited himself.

Ronan Lynch listened to music in the corner and glared at everyone who bothered looking. He was eighth on the docket, right after Adam.

Joseph Kavinsky was nowhere to be found. At least as of right now, but he was also sixteenth and evidently could afford not to wait in the room like everyone else. Although Adam didn’t know him very well, he almost wished that he wouldn’t show up but somehow knew he would.

To his own surprise, he found that he ended up not being one of the ones to sit alone, seeing as Noah Czerny had apparently taken it upon himself to personally welcome Adam to the global scene. Also surprisingly, Adam didn’t mind, especially when compared to his usual habit of mapping out his routine paranoidly in his head before an event. Noah reminded him of Henry, which was more or less a fair comparison, if only slightly accurate.

“Noah Czerny,” he had introduced himself, sticking out a hand to shake, marching straight up to where Adam was sitting.

There was nothing more Adam could do but shake his hand and say, “Adam Parrish.”

“I know,” Noah grinned. “I’m friends with Blue. She’s mentioned you before. She says you’re great! I can’t wait to see you compete.”

Despite being caught off guard, Adam found himself genuinely touched that Blue had thought to mention him to someone. And that, apparently, this stranger seemed also genuine in his excitement. “Thanks,” he said. “I look forward to seeing you skate as well.”

Which was true. Noah was rumored to be almost as much of a wildcard himself. Adam had watched last season’s Olympics from his ratty couch and saw, along with the rest of the world, Noah’s sabatoshed crash. He had been rumored to never compete again after that injury, much less recover. Adam could relate to that - in fact, Noah had inspired him to work even harder on his own skate. If he could come back from the brink of death, Adam could overcome a deaf ear.

Noah grinned, and then the first skater went onto the ice.

Then the second skater went. Then a third, each collecting their scores. After a fourth, someone was inevitably knocked off the podium list, and after a fifth, there were two. When the sixth skated onto the rink, Adam prepared himself for his own routine in his head as he stretched. He had done it this morning. He knew every turn, every trick in the balance, every change in the music.

Persephone glided up to him and did not wish him luck. She didn’t believe in luck. Instead, she hummed as if tasting the air, or the future, and said that he would do well. It felt much more reassuring than luck.

Noah patted his back as Adam passed to the entrance. Adam could see Team USA in their seating section a couple yards away. Blue was preemptively cheering for him, waving the US flag, while Henry’s cheeks were painted red, white, and blue. Orla blew him a kiss. Gansey was grinning at him in a carefree way that made him look like the young adult that he very rarely seemed but always was, and Helen smiled encouragingly.

The zamboni left the rink after its rounds, and Adam was left to skate onto fresh ice. He could feel his nerves build up to their peak as he waited for the music and felt thousands of eyes on him. It was the only moment of pure silence. Anticipation. He could see how this would be the worst part to someone like Blue when all you could do was wait.

And then the music began, taking his tension away with it, leaving his mind to relax as his feet carried him through familiar routines.

The technical element was where he shined, where all his effort could be seen, and he let it lead him across the ice. The angle of his blade to a short staccato, a spin in a rising crescendo. Crowds vanished as he leapt. 

One leap, then two. A glide across the ice. An angle backwards and the following lutz. The music carried him away in ways that nothing else could and led every movement in his toes up to his fingers as he reached for the sky.

Adam Parrish felt full of magic.

His routine ended too quickly with a final spin and crowds came roaring to life. Adam could picture the commentary, critiquing his spins and praising his leaps, but at the moment in the exhilaration of his final bow, he found he didn’t mind.

His legs carried him to the side of the rink and towards the exit more out of habit than any present mind. Persephone greeted him brightly as they sat waiting for his score. Adam could still hear Team USA screaming over the crowds.

A number was spoken over the intercom and Adam watched as his name was placed at the top of the contenders list. First place. He only had to stay there, and then remain after his second performance.

Despite the potential for a future decline, Adam grinned and exited the scoring booth to meet the eyes of Ronan Lynch staring out at him from the middle of the rink. Lynch smirked, and then looked away as he waited for his own music to start.

He was a shadow in black, a sheer fabric covering his back to showcase the large Celtic knot that had grown to be a trademark. If Adam had been designed to look like feathers, Lynch was an entire raven - large and vigilant.

His music was loud and angry. It screamed at the world and called it unfair. When Lynch leapt into action, the world paused to listen. 

Adam had never seen something so beautiful.

He had seen him skate before in the same way thousands did. On the tv, back when Adam was regaining his balance and Ronan was a reigning champion of the junior competitions. That Ronan had been optimistic and creative. He leapt into the air as if he were dreaming. Adam had studied his every move, the easy balance and the lightness of his step. Then Niall Lynch, his father, coach, and role model, had died.

This Lynch was a gliding nightmare. His movements seemed impossible and dark. It was an entirely new image but with just as much talent - only more aggressive in its demonstration.

Ronan Lynch: an impossibility.

Now, Adam watched every twist of his feet and movements of his hands. This close to the rink, he could see the rippling muscles of his back and the power in his leaps, energy projected out as if daring gravity to defy him.

_Jesus Christ._

He couldn’t look away.

Lynch ended with a final riff in the music and skating off the rink to wait for his score. 

Adam was staring. He knew he was staring. But it felt impossible to see his performance in person, to be able to see the details of his expression, without falling into his gravity and trying to get closer.

Lynch did not look in his direction. Instead he met his coach, his older brother Declan, and he waited for his score as the zamboni went back on the ice again for the next two contenders. 

Adam pulled his gaze away to see the scoreboard. His own name and score was leading the list in first place and he waited for it to be pulled down. It didn’t. A number was called. Ronan Lynch’s name was placed on the scoreboard.

Second place. Two points behind.

Adam’s jaw dropped. Lynch scowled. The crowd screamed excitedly.

Lynch stalked up and to the chair next to his and sprawled backwards as if he was an Ancient Greek god on a throne. The contest resumed.

“Not bad,” he said gruffly, as the next skater took to the rink. He still didn’t look over at Adam. “For an American. I’m going to kick your ass on the second round though.”

It still felt like a compliment. It also felt like a challenge. There was nothing Adam loved more. With both of their faces pointed forward, he smiled.

* * *

“ADAM!” Blue screamed excitedly once the skaters were released into the wild. 

There was a blur of color, spiky hair, and incoming faces and suddenly Adam felt himself engulfed in arms of everyone on the skate team.

The scoreboard had ended with him still at the top. Lynch had stayed in second, with Kavinsky careening into third when he finally deigned it time to show up. Noah had taken to his revival well, placing fifth as of right now, as he floated across the ice like a ghost.

“Oh my god, you did it! You’re first!” Blue’s voice came from inside the pile.

“He still has the free skate,” Gansey said nearby.

“Thanks for your vote of confidence,” Adam said.

“I knew he would get first,” Henry said proudly.

“There’s still the free skate,” Adam reminded him.

“Oh, so when I say it, it’s doubting your abilities, but you’re allowed to comment on the second round?” Gansey frowned.

“We all believe that Adam will do perfectly fine in the free skate,” Helen reminded them.

“Thanks, Helen.”

“There’s a lot of energy in the future,” Orla warned but Adam was too used to vaguely specific statements from the Sargent women to wonder at it too long.

“Are we forgetting that we are in the group event?” Blue said. “We all have to do well to win.”

“No pressure,” Henry agreed. “But Helen and Gansey literally need to leave now in order to have time to practice for their event today too.”

They all pulled away from the group hug and Adam found a frazzled Blue, an equally frazzled Henry, a less than frazzled Orla, and a very put together Gansey and Helen. Helen already seemed to be ready to leave for the next event but Gansey hesitated from pulling away from where Blue’s arm had been touching his in their bundle of happy limbs.

But he did leave, and yet not before Blue reached up and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Good luck,” she said. “We’ll be cheering for you.”

Henry and Adam exchanged a look. A _when-will-they-get-their-heads-out-of-their-asses_ look. A look that had been going on for far too long.

Gansey, as with every time Blue shared her affection with him, seemed positively charmed.

“Good luck to you too, Helen,” Henry finally said. 

Helen smiled because she knew why she hadn’t been acknowledged as quickly. The thing Adam liked about Helen was that she wasn’t ever bitter, she was hard working and understanding, and she wanted her brother to finally get up the nerve to ask Blue out as much as any of them.

They all politely gave Gansey a moment to figure out what to do with Blue’s course of action. In the end, he only adjusted his glasses habitually before looking towards his sister. “Ready?” He asked, which was an ironic question considering it was him they had been waiting for.

Helen let it slide. “Yes.”

In the distance, Adam couldn’t help but notice Lynch didn’t have his own crowd. Instead, he was seeming to being arguing with Kavinsky under the swell of noise and excitement. Kavinsky was smirking, Lynch was sneering, and both were much too close together for comfort. It seemed any minute they would both start throwing punches.

Adam recognized the tension of Lynch’s posture and the fake looseness of K’s all too well. It seemed that even now he could never escape the violence.

Even with what challenge had arose from he and Lynch, Adam knew the type of person he had to avoid. The type of person who oozed anger and fury and whose fists were beaten red. Kavinsky was that type of person and they did not take losing well. Adam had yet to tell if Lynch was as well or if instead, his skating was his release just as it was Adam’s.

It was better not to learn the hard way.

He turned away.

“You’ll do great Ganseys,” he said, facing the group again. “You two always do.”

Helen gave him a hug and a congratulations, Gansey held his hand out for a touched fist bump, and Blue leaned against his shoulder as they watched the two of them turn to disappear into the crowd.

“Come on,” Blue said, nudging him again. “We’ve got to get some lunch before their event.”

“There’s a nice Chinese place a block from here,” Henry asserted.

“I could do with some orange chicken,” Adam mused.

That seemed to solve their schedule for the day, and Henry threw his arms around all of them in order to drag them towards the door. “This will be a grand competition,” he announced. “I’m feeling lucky for these next couple days.”

“Luck has nothing to do with it,” Orla said, and they all knew she wasn’t talking about practice either. But she didn’t comment more, adjusted her mini skirt, and with a toss of her hair followed them out the door.

Later, Adam’s fortune cookie said, _a chance is right in front of you if only you learn to take it_. Orla hummed in agreement, Blue rolled her eyes, and Henry took the opportunity to guess what kind of chance it might be. Adam had never believed in fortune cookies so he had followed Blue’s lead and rolled his eyes.

He tucked it into his pocket anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I looked up a bunch of stuff for how competitions are structured so for those of you who don’t know, there are always two parts of the skating competition, the technical elements and the free skate. These usually happen on two different days. Then they add the totals together for the winner. The rest of the fic should be less technical and more interaction but I wanted to establish the competition.
> 
> Also? You will notice I posted two chapters today that I already have written. I’ve started a pattern of an article and then one of the days of the competition. As of right now when the articles don’t have too much to do with plot, I will post them on the same day. However, they will soon become important so on those days, part of the story will just be told from the media.
> 
> Because of this way of structuring, this fic is likely to be about twenty-five chapters long. I’ve also put the goal of Sunday updates in my description. If I don’t post on Sunday feel free to call me out considering it’s likely a) I forgot and will post immediately, or b) I haven’t finished and will finish as soon as I can, depending on whether or not I’ve caught up to posting what I already have written.
> 
> Thanks for reading and keeping up with me! And good luck on finals to whoever, like me, is struggling with those this week!


	5. magical sentient forest

_The odds are looking great for the USA Team as the Olympic figure skating events kicked off with a bang. It may be a team event but all eyes were on Adam Parrish in his first international skate. And Adam Parrish did not disappoint._

_In the men’s category, he currently earned the most points even after rousing performances from returning stars Russia’s Joseph Kavinsky and the Czech Republic’s Noah Czerny. Parrish seemed most shocked however after the skate of Ronan Lynch, current defender of the title World Champion, who placed only a couple points behind._

_It seems as if the Lynch-Kavinsky rivalry is not the only one we might need to look out for when it comes for the men’s single events._

_Also adding to the USA point total were Helen and Richard Gansey who skated their way into solidifying America’s current holding as a gold contender. Their classic choice in music and style that they are known for has always been able to appeal to the judges without losing their modern twists and talent._

_With most of the skaters returning tomorrow for the second day of the team event, with the exception of men’s skate earning Parrish a well deserved day off, most of their time will have been spent practicing later today._

_However, that’s never stopped them before, and the group was spotted ordering pizza and hanging out on the slopes in order to watch the ski event later today. Their comradery has caught the attention of many people on social media, calling the the Gangsey - a play on the last name of members Helen and Richard Gansey who seem to be the leaders of the group._

_Those not seem on the slopes today include Kavinsky and Lynch who have often been rumored to indulge in racing and drugs when it fits their pleasure. Lynch, whose reputation has hit a nosedive after Niall Lynch’s death, was found at the hospital a year ago with unknown charges. It doesn’t appear to have affected his skate, at least as far as talent, but those in the Olympic committee have threatened to ban him from skating if he is caught participating in any illegal activities. Kavinsky, with a similar track record as well as rumors of doping, is threatened with the same._

_This is looking good for Team USA, especially in team competitions tomorrow where Lynch’s skate will likely not affect Ireland’s overall score and Kavinsky’s will likely be more violent than beautiful._

_We’re wishing luck to Blue Sargent and Henry Cheng who will be performing tomorrow. Their scores in previous competitions have steadily launched to reach the same potential as they both trained to gain in individual skates. If their interactions are anything to go off of, their skate will be fluid, fun, and marvelous to watch._

_For her first time on Olympic ice, we will also be watching Orla Sargent, who has spent much of her time training with her cousin and has adopted a style of her own that is new and eye catching. If you haven’t seen her on the ice before, you’ve likely seen her on her makeup and fashion vlog, which has over a million followers and is expected to have brought a fair number of the Olympic crowd._

_Helen and Richard Gansey will also be performing their free skate, and if their performance is anything like today’s, America will have no problem retaining the gold for the team event._

_Today, however, we are still basking in the glory that was Adam Parrish’s technical skate and are looking forward to his next, even if it won’t be tomorrow. As accurately but abstractly said in the wise Blue Sargent’s latest tweet:_

_“Adam Parrish skates like he’s possessed by a magical sentient forest #mybff #olympics2k18”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a picture of the tweet but I don’t know how to insert it, if anyone can tell me, I’ll add it.


	6. Day 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam’s got a day off of skating but that doesn’t mean it’s uneventful. Enter that news reporter you’ve been hearing so much from, and Adam Parrish gets to know Ronan a little more even if it’s not through, you know, actually talking to him.

If the other day had been messy, today was a hurricane. Henry’s hair routine apparently took twice as long on performance days and evidently when Blue was performing on the same day as Orla, she did not give up the bathroom so easily, if she had ever done so in the first place. The only person he could count of being sane was Helen and potentially Gansey until his anxiety kicked in.

So Adam was quick to leave the hotel room, shoving on his favorite pair of jeans and a t-shirt, and had almost made his escape with his breakfast when he heard someone calling his name.

“Adam! Adam Parrish!”

Adam, despite the fact that it was hard not to hear, pretended he didn’t.

“Hey, Adam!” The voice said, closer this time and obviously out of breath, from running to catching up.

“Hey!” The man said again, grabbing Adam’s arm which was an ill advised move in and of itself without the fact that Adam did not have high opinions of the person in question.

“Tad Carruthers,” Adam greeted with a sigh, reluctantly forced to acknowledge him.

“Hi,” Tad grinned, his eyes wide as if surprised Adam even remembered his name. Adam tried not to forget the names of those who annoyed him in order to best avoid them. Which obviously hadn’t worked in this case. 

“I’m glad I caught up to you! I wanted to thank you for that interview you did the other day-“

The interview in question had been short, three questions, and had taken a total of a half hour out of their day. But when they weren’t being asked questions, Tad had never once seemed to stop talking. To Adam in particular, which was unfair because the other five certainly noticed but did nothing in response of his glances for help. They seemed to take some amusement out of someone actually taking interest in Adam for once, evidently.

It was a shame Adam had next to zero interest in Tad. It was an equal shame that Tad didn’t notice.

“Well, the whole team was there and Gansey was the one who arranged it so maybe you should go track him down instead,” Adam suggested.

“Right,” Tad agreed as if he didn’t hear a word. “I’ll do that. It’s just, I’m in charge of reporting on the figure skating events and I’ve been writing a lot about you. You know, because you’re so fascinating and people love you and want to know more. And I was wondering if you’d be willing to do a more one on one interview?”

Adam looked towards the exit to the large room where he had managed to get a couple feet away from with his breakfast. He had been so close.

Tad, which was already per usual, did not notice his hesitation and instead continued talking, “You’ve read my stuff right? People love it, I’m sure we could always give you that extra boost of popularity for your performance tomorrow. Not that you need it, you skate like magic, but the people are demanding more, you know? The man behind the skates.”

“I haven’t read any,” Adam deadpanned.

Tad blinked, thrown off guard for only a second, before evidently finding a way around this, “Oh, well, I’m the best Olympic figure skating correspondent. You can trust me with an interview, I promise it’ll be over in a jiffy.”

Adam hadn’t been aware people other than Gansey still used the word “jiffy” unironically. He also just really wanted to eat breakfast. 

He took a deep breath, considered his options and Tad’s absurdly high level of persistence, and offered, “Would it still be in the same office? I can swing by after the competitions. You can have an hour.”

“An hour! Yes!” Tad immediately agreed, taking his hand from where it was at his side and shaking it. “Absolutely, that’ll work for me. Thank you so much, Adam!”

Adam didn’t not like the casual use of his name coming from a near stranger in front of him. It seemed odd that people knew who he was much less were interested in learning more. There wasn’t much to tell but sometimes there was also too much. He stiffly nodded at Tad and escaped out the door.

* * *

Somehow, even with her competition up first, Blue had somehow managed to find Adam before the performance, immediately pinpoint that something was off, and then burst out cackling when she heard about Tad.

Adam briefly questioned why she was his best friend, considered disowning her, and then remembered everything she had ever done for him. He didn’t disown her. Instead, he let her cackle a bit with a huff before addressing his real concern which was, “What if he asks about my family life? My childhood?”

“Oh,” Blue realized. She waited a beat too long before saying, “Isn’t there that thing just to answer the question you wish they had asked?”

“That doesn’t actually work,” Adam sighed.

Blue thought a bit, sitting down in her brightly colored purple and red costume, and stared out at the rink. Adam followed her lead. For a while, they both said nothing.

Finally, Blue answered. “You say whatever you feel comfortable saying. And if you don’t want to answer the question, you don’t have to. It’s your life to decide what and what isn’t disclosed.”

“I know that, Blue, but sometimes it feels like a secret or something I can’t discuss. And it’s not… I just don’t feel like the whole world needs to know.”

“And it’s not,” Blue assured him. Her hand went up to rub at his back and Adam immediately felt tension release in his shoulders. “It’s your narrative, not anyone else’s.”

Adam considered that for a moment. He had always believed in his own destiny, in paving his own path, and that is what he had done. He had worked his way up to the Olympics of all places - a place he had never thought he’d be after the accident. Adam had always been one to control his life, an interview could be no different.

“Thanks,” he replied, looking over at her from the ice.

Blue smiled back at her. She was so beautiful, Adam remembered, especially now with her hair in a spiky ponytail and dressed in bright colors looking more like Blue than ever. Ice skating revealed who you were, he often mused. It took the good parts and put them on display but it also took their passion and art. Blue had never been different.

He was so glad that he had her with him.

“Blue!” Henry shouted, rushing up to them. “Practice time is almost over, we’re third on the rink.”

He looked excited, which spread to Blue who’s comforting smile turned into a grin. They both looked a little nervous but the kind of jitters that lead to something you knew would be worth it. 

Blue stood, patting Adam on the back with a, “Wish us luck,” before drawing away.

“You don’t need it,” Adam told them.

Henry grinned and stuck his hand out for a fist bump, a habit he had enduringly gathered off of Gansey. Adam grinned back and lightly rapped their knuckles together. Blue rolled her eyes before grabbed Henry’s arm and dragging him towards the rink and where the contestants were waiting, “Come on, Henry, we gotta get going.”

“I came over here to get _you_!” Henry said defensively.

Adam could hear their bickering even as he exited and went to sit where the rest of the team was gathered. Henry seemed to be laughing and teasing her about her height somehow and Blue was threatening him with a raised skated foot at his toes. They would be fine, Adam was sure. If anything, they looked confident and sure of themselves even as their turn rapidly approached with only two teams in front of them.

Adam felt an arm around his shoulder and found Gansey was grinning with him. Helen was clapping and Orla seemed to be whooping uncontrollably in support of her cousin the minute they entered the rink. 

Blue set her beginning position, watching Henry from a couple feet away, as Henry stared at her back. The crowd seemed to have caught on that this would be a good one. Blue and Henry were a collage of spiky black hair, patterns mettled together with bright colors, and the fierceness of the ocean.

Madonna began to play and the real competition began.

* * *

By the time dinner came around, Adam was exhausted. Everyone on the team performing that day, that was everyone but Adam, had done very well. That being said, other teams also did very well. The US was currently sitting at fourth on the team event scoreboard but none of them found themselves worried. They still had an additional day after to catch up and some of their best skates were in the free skate element.

But that wasn’t what had exhausted him considering he hadn’t participated. His interview with Tad, although limited to an hour, had tested his ability to remain at the very least passive aggressively polite. And then he had gone to dinner with the team which was obviously less draining, but more so in the way that they had so much energy that sometimes Adam couldn’t keep up.

“And I was researching this dead king in Ireland,” Gansey was saying as they piled around the table eating pizza. “And they think he might be somewhere alive, but in a timeless sleep. Isn’t that so fascinating? He grants a wish if you wake him but I think it would be grand just to find him, wouldn’t it? To be able to prove he once existed and still does?”

Sometimes Adam thought he would have been a great archeologist in another life. Hell, after skating, he probably still could be.

Orla rolled her eyes and took another slice of pizza, waving it at Blue as if to tell her to handle it. Which was fair, considering Blue was best at handling all things Gansey.

But it was Henry who spoke. “A wish? What kind of wish?”

“It sounds like a fairy tale,” Helen commented.

“Psychics are real, why not wishes,” Orla bantered as if she had any say in the matter of psychics. Adam sometimes suspected maybe she did. She was almost the type that would go to a psychic in the way that she would have if she actually needed to in order to know weirdly specific things about the future.

“Maybe Ronan knows something about it,” was Blue’s input.

Gansey looked delighted. “Exactly! It sounds like a fairytale but I’ve looked into it and everything seems to have some element of truth. The wishes could be whatever you want, but do you really think Ronan knows anything about it?”

The most likely answer was no, but Gansey looked so hopeful and for some reason he was looking at Adam for the answer as if Adam had somehow spent time talking to Lynch at all. Adam didn’t want to break his heart. “You could ask him,” he ended up saying.

“Yes! You’ll have to introduce me!”

“Uh yeah, sure,” Adam found himself agreeing. After all, no one could say no to Gansey. But then he came up with a better plan. “You know what, why don’t you have Noah introduce you? He knows Lynch better, I’d say.”

“Noah!” Blue grinned, leaning across the table with her elbows out and hands on her cheeks. “How is he?”

This was much more manageable territory. “Great,” Adam replied easily.

Soon enough conversation had diverted away from dead kings everywhere but in Gansey’s mind, the pizza’s were finished, and Adam found himself walking around the sidewalks of the city alone in order to experience a new place in the world and to clear his mind.

The streets were never silent, he learned, even as the sun had almost disappeared telling them to get ready for the next day. Some people were meandering home or to the nearest hotels, others seemed as if their day had just started with the night, and a couple seemed to be walking with no purpose, just staring up at the skyscrapers and the colored lights of the cars driving past.

Adam was in the last group. 

Once upon a time, there had been a boy who had believed he would never escape. He had lived in a double wide in a small town where no one would leave. His father had often told him he wouldn’t and his mother had acted like it was a terrible thing to have wanted to leave their small town. For the longest time, the boy had stayed.

If Adam could have told that boy now that he would be halfway across the world and that he would be seen by millions of people across the globe, he wouldn’t have believed it. But here he was. 

He didn’t know how long he walked but he hit a lot of the nearby landmarks he had read on tourist sites on the plane. He took a couple other tourists photos even as it was getting dark, and somehow he found himself wandering back towards the hotel.

It was relaxing, cathartic even, to see a place he never thought he’d see and be able to prove to himself that he had done it.

At least, it was peaceful until he heard bickering from an alleyway by a nearby bar that he was passing. The voices were biting, and a loud laugh pierced the air. 

“God, Lynch, no need to be such a prude,” Adam could hear Kavinsky’s familiar drawl dripping with a mocking sneer.

Adam peered around the corner just in time to see Lynch angrily down a can of beer and toss it to the ground. “What the fuck did you just call me?”

“A prude. Do you need to me spell it out Lynchy boy, or are you going to do something about it.”

Kavinsky and Lynch were chest to chest glaring at each other, gloating each other along, and Adam had to look away. It felt to intimate to watch, as well as too intimidating. He could still hear them talking if he listened with his right ear and as much as he wanted to pull away, he found he couldn’t pull away from the situation entirely.

“We can’t race the day before a competition,” Lynch bit out.

“ _We can’t race the day before a competition_ ,” Kavinsky mocked, high and nasally. “We’ve done it before, Lynch, or don’t you remember? I wouldn’t be surprised if you didn’t, you were out of your mind that night. Like, totally _shitfaced_. Made racing much more exciting didn’t it?”

“I almost died,” Lynch whispered harshly.

“That’s the best fucking part.”

“Fuck you,” Lynch growled, and Adam could hear footsteps rapidly approaching where he had ducked behind a corner. “I wouldn’t have done any of that if you hadn’t given me those goddamn drugs.”

“I’ve never forced you to do anything,” Kavinsky called down the alleyway, and Adam could hear the footsteps stop. He could only hold his breath. He should have left, he should have kept walking, instead of getting involved with this and spying on this conversation. Kavinsky was still talking, smug, and his voice came closer even as his steps seemed silent. “That’s what makes you afraid, doesn’t it? I’ve never fucking done a thing, it’s all been you. You _need_ me, Lynch. Where would you be without me?”

Adam waited for the reply, for Lynch to storm away, but there was a pause and in that pause, Adam knew he wouldn’t. After all, Adam had almost been Lynch before, in a situation in which he had believed himself to be who his father thought he was, that maybe he was never going to get out just like his father said, and if the kid from the trailer park was all he was going to be, then why attempt to be anything else? He had been so close to that point before Blue had beaten it out of him.

Maybe Lynch craved the adrenaline, or maybe there was a kick to drugs and racing that he couldn’t get from skating, but Adam wondered if he had ever had someone try to pull him away. If it was a way to release his anger and grief through a violence he couldn’t commit anywhere else.

Adam couldn’t bare to listen any more. He slipped away and down the street to the hotel. After all, even if Kavinsky and Lynch were willing to throw away their night, Adam had worked too hard to let himself fall into any similar sort of trap.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry, this was supposed to be published yesterday but I had a shitty day and also ao3 wasn’t working when I went on. So a day late but I got Tad Carruthers involved! I don’t know how my short clips of parts of Adam’s day are working out or the news thing but hopefully knowing who the writer is now and getting that more involved with the story will start to piece things together and not seem like awkward clumps.
> 
> You’ll notice I added more tags because for some reason this has turned into a story, as of right now, that has a lot of subtle and not-so-subtle mentions of Adam dealing with reminents of his childhood because I feel like he would feel he has a lot to prove because of it. Idk maybe I like exploring the lingering effects. But Ronan will soon begin to be a larger part of the story!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed reading! Feel free to critique, comment, leave kudos, whatever you want.


	7. friends and family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Adam’s interview with Tad (god help him).

_Another fine day of figure skating here at the Olympics has come to an end. Tomorrow is the last day for the team events with Team USA currently in fourth place._

_Along with a classic performance by the Gansey siblings, placing them second among the pairs skaters and establishing high hopes for the individual competitions, Sargent and Cheng swept the floor with an on ice tango. Although their points would not have placed them on the pedestal in the individual events, we know there is still a lot of pride to be held in their performance and another day to redeem themselves. As for Orla Sargent, as usual, we were unable to look away._

_Tomorrow holds the final round for both Sargents, Cheng, and most anticipatingly, Adam Parrish in order to place the US Olympic Figure Skating team on the pedestal._

_In fact, we have Adam Parrish with us today to answer some questions that have been circulating around the web for the US team’s most mysterious player. But the question most on people’s minds right now is, is he ready for tomorrow’s skate?_

_“I don’t think anyone can ever be fully ready,” Adam answers. “I think I’m as ready as I can expect myself to be.”_

_As of right now, he is currently leading the men’s skating section in points, how did it feel to place that high on his first official global skate?_

_Adam pauses, thinking over his answer as he always does, and then answers honestly, sounding modest considering his high levels of talent, “Incredible. I didn’t think I could do it until I did but I’m not holding out hope. There’s always tomorrow’s rounds and in the team events, we all rely on each other as much as we do ourselves.”_

_But the US is holding out hope that he may be able to win us our first gold in the men’s figuring skating event in over a decade._

_At this, Adam looks both concerned and surprised. He laughs, albeit a little awkwardly, and says, “I don’t know about gold. I’d love to and I’m aiming for it, but everyone competing has potentially had more training than I have. I’m hoping hard work pays off mostly.”_

_There’s something of a southern drawl in his speech that is barely noticeable but subtly there in the way he talks about how hard he has worked to be at the Olympics today. Olympian’s can spend all their lives training, and Adam, with his various injuries that have threatened to derail him, has potentially had to work harder. And how he started figure skating?_

_“When I was seven, I spent a lot of time away from home and needed something to do,” is the generic answer. “My teacher was Blue’s aunt, actually, and she introduced me to it. It was something to do and then it became something I wanted to get better at.”_

_But all of that was put on pause a month before his first juniors competition, when he got injured somehow with something only acknowledged as a hearing problem during the two years he was out of commission. What was it exactly that happened?_

_Adam pauses and touches his ear as if he doesn’t quite know he is doing it. It is his left ear but even now, it looks perfectly normal. “I hit my ear against something,” is his eventual answer. “I lost hearing because of it and had to learn how to regain my balance. It took awhile but I had Blue to help me through it.”_

_There are no records of disability within the Olympic player profiles so it is a fair assumption to suggest he recovered beautifully. It’s impossible to believe that someone of his ability would be able to do so with a permanent loss of balance._

_According to his story, he’s known Blue Sargent, his fellow teammate, for more than half his life. Media have often speculated about her relations with her teammates, with a more often pairing being that of her and Adam. Have they, are they, or will they ever be dating?_

_Adam does not look amused. “No,” he says simply, which does not sound believable but does not leave room for further questioning on the subject of Blue Sargent._

_His answer also leaves much to be desired as far as his current love interests. If not Blue, who he speaks of often and fondly, then are there any other potential romances in his life?_

_By now Adam is stone-faced as if daring the question to be repeated, potentially because he has something to hide or some other defensive reason. “Blue is my best friend and I’d appreciate it if my personal life and relationships with other people would not be misconstrued for some gossip magazine.”_

_It doesn’t answer the question but based on the fear he has likely now instilled in gossip magazines, and our own ability to ask about his love life, we continue onto the next question._

_The Gangsey often acts like a family and much is known about each of the member’s family lives. The Sargents are a family of skaters and coaches that have been known for showing up at competitions for years, the Ganseys are politicians, and Cheng’s family is originally from Vancouver and he often talks passionately about how growing up in a family of collectors inspired his taste. But what about Adam’s family?_

_“There isn’t much to say,” Adam answers immediately, the reply slipping out like something he has been waiting to answer for years._

_But surely there is something. Do they come to his events sometimes?_

_“I haven’t spoken to them in years,” he bites out._

_His stare is piercing, as if protecting himself from sharing more about his estranged family. He is suddenly not just a world knoun figure skater, he is simply a boy who has lost his family. Does he miss them? Does he ever wonder about them or think about them watching him on the news and being proud of what he’s done with his life? Most importantly, what are they doing with their life if not following their son’s career onto the Olympics?_

_“I don’t know,” he admits eventually, his lips pursed and eyebrows knitted together, effectively ending that topic as well. It is a wonder anyone has ever gotten a story out of him. There are so many mysteries about Adam Parrish that it’s hard to know where to begin._

_The conversation ends fairly quickly after that, with Adam pointing out the time and exiting off to the slopes, likely to meet the rest of Team USA. Even his walking seems graceful, as if he’s continuously gliding on ice, and it’s no wonder that figure skating will take him far._

_His performance tomorrow will likely not be as unforthcoming as this interview. Will the story he tells through his skate be one of loss, longing, or that pain we saw behind his eyes? Has it ever been before but no one has noticed or known why? There’s certainly a ethereal way to how he skates and it is bound to come from somewhere._

_More to this story later as we attempt to reach more of his friends and family._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A day late but I hope you enjoy! There’s no story day today but hopefully I managed to convey the story behind the article through Tad’s oblivious writing and Adam’s reactions.
> 
> Thanks for reading and keeping up!


	8. Day 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The final day of the team events and everyone is hoping for a medal whereas Adam is also worrying about the repercussions of what he saw in the alleyway with Kavinsky and Ronan.

All six of them do a cheer before they split up for the final section of the team events for the day. Orla is first up for the day, news she had taken with an impossible huff and a roll of her eyes so similar to Blue’s that any doubts that the two opposite human beings were _not_ cousins were immediately cast aside.

The men’s event is last, leaving Adam plenty of time to relax and mentally prepare for his routine. He’s done it so many times that he barely needs to go over it. He goes over it anyway.

It also gives Adam plenty of time to keep an eye out for Lynch which he resolutely does not do because there is no reason to ruin his own career just because the other man is fine tossing it all away for a midnight drag race. If Adam cares, it’s only because it’s a waste to go throw all that talent away when Adam has had to sacrifice everything to even wear his skates. It has only very little to do with the fact that Adam has been fairly invested in watching Lynch’s whole career up until this point.

The thing that messes with Adam, in the back of his mind, is that if Lynch can get this far, to have multiple world champion medals under his belt, only to give it all away because of stupid decisions, Adam can do the same. There’s nothing saying he won’t except his strong will and perseverance.

Adam ignores the voice in his head telling him that Lynch has not showed up at the arena yet. He doesn’t have to, not until the actual competition, but the reminder is there anyway.

Should he tell a judge what he saw? Should he tell anyone?

In the end, he does not. It’s none of his business to get involved in other people’s lives, especially when they thought they were in private. Even if what they were doing in private was street racing, drugs, and probably other illegal things. Let that ruin themselves.

Gansey, seeming to sense his trepidation, places a hand on his shoulder. “You’ll be fine, Adam. You skate wonderfully.”

Adam didn’t know how to express that it wasn’t him he was worried about without confronting the idea as to why he was worried in the first place. So instead he nodded.

“We’re in fourth place,” Gansey then announces to the group. A fact they had already known but they all understand this is the beginning of one of his speeches. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t catch up. Orla, you’ve got some fierce competitors but you have a whole section of people rooting for you for good reason. The judges will love you.”

Orla smiled smugly and adjusted her costume’s skirt in a way that emphasized the length of her legs. Adam wasn’t about to say that her performances were a lot to do with her appeal, she was one of the best figure skaters he knew, but she also had one of the best figures of people he knew. And her skates utilized everything. Adam wasn’t the first, nor would he be the last, to stare. Gansey cleared his throat, subverting his eyes to meet Blue’s where they were glaring at him. Just as quickly, he turned to look at Henry who looked as if he were close to laughing. Helen was his only saving grace.

“Save it for the competition,” she told Orla lightly, giving Gansey time to blearily figure out what he had done to make Blue glare and then get himself together.

“Right, um,” he started, looking around the group again. His eyes lingered on Blue, still watching him daringly, before deciding that was the wrong course of action, and addressed Adam. “Adam, we all know you’ll do great, just do what you did Monday.”

It wasn’t very encouraging but Adam needed no one believing in him more than himself. And he trusted everything he had worked towards. He could do a repeat of Monday and even make it better. Did he believe he’d stay at the top of the points? No. Was he hoping? Absolutely.

“Henry, just make sure going up against the Canadian team doesn’t psych you out and Jane…” he made eye contact with her again and instantly seemed to lose his words. Blue was watching him back, waiting, crossing her arms. Gansey opened his mouth, hesitated, closed it again and then reframed his thoughts in order to give her a simple, “Good luck.”

“Kill me now,” Henry mouthed to Adam as Blue cracked a small smile.

“Thanks,” she said, just as simply.

Adam agreed with Henry. At some point, their back and forth and hesitancy had to end. At this point, they no longer had the excuse that Adam was her ex to stop them considering how long ago that had been. And yet, here they were, a couple feet away from each other but the distance feeling like only a couple inches that neither of them stepped into.

”I’ll walk Orla to the rink, you guys can go sit down and I’ll catch up,” Helen suggested.

Everyone in the group immediately acquiesced, Henry and Adam following behind Gansey and Blue, whose hands were now brushing as they talked about some environmental effort thing. Adam would have wondered if they had just not told them if they were already dating if not for the fact that Gansey would not have been able to get that information out of his system quick enough.

“I bet they’ll get their shit together within the next month,” Henry said conversationally.

Adam snorted. “After a year of this? Why so soon?”

“So you’ll agree to a bet against that?” Henry challenged.

Adam looked forward at the two in front of them and followed the length of their arms down to where they were linked innocently between them. They were so close to the edge of falling over that Adam would be a fool to bet against how soon. Especially against Henry, who had wormed his way close to the two of them as Blue’s partner and Gansey’s fellow preppy nerd friend.

“Wanna bet who’ll make the first move?” He asked instead.

They both said, “Blue”, at the same time. Sometimes Adam thought Blue was as sick of this back and forth thing as the rest of them. Adam had asked once why she hadn’t done anything yet and she had answered that it felt that if she did, she’d never be the same Blue again. Not in the bad way, but in the same way that doing anything changed you in the slow progression of time.

She still had better potential than Gansey who melted during every conversation with her.

Henry laughed and there went all chances of any sort of wager. Instead he offered, “Maybe we need to start getting you together with someone then. Who would we be able to groan at after Blue and Gansey finally follow through?”

Adam snorted again, and as the group of them made their way into the section reserved for Team USA, he couldn’t help but let his eyes drift to the small Ireland section. Still no Lynch. “You know me, Henry,” he said, sitting down. “I don’t have time for a love interest.”

“They have time,” Henry shrugged, nodding towards Gansey and Blue.

Adam thought about it before saying, “Pick someone else to bother about their pining. I’ve never been afraid to ask anyone out.”

Henry also considered this, musing, “That’s true. You asked out Blue in a week, and that’s taken Gansey a year. I suppose we’ll just have to do with no romantic entertainment.”

“Be your own,” Adam deadpanned.

Henry shot him a slightly dramatic look that seemed to speak levels as to what he thought of that suggestion. “I’ve never been one for relationships,” he said, which was also true.

Adam hummed in agreement, looking out towards the rink that was being prepped with the zamboni and where Orla was practicing her foot movements as Helen said her good lucks.

“Helen and Orla,” he suggested.

“Together or with their own person to pine for?” Henry asked, immediately catching on.

Adam didn’t have to think before answering, “Their own.” After all, it was a miracle the two got along, from two completely different worlds with two completely different set of ideals. Modest versus hottest, flashy versus efficient. Besides, like Henry, Orla never settled down and for completely different, more wild, reasons.

“Helen maybe,” Henry suggested, just as Adam was thinking it. “Orla would just play hard to get.”

“Are you guys talking about my cousin’s love life?” Blue asked with interest, evidently joining the conversation from the one she finished with Gansey.

“And my sister’s?” Gansey asked with skepticism.

“Yes,” Henry answered unabashedly before Adam could deny it. “I was thinking maybe Helen would fall for one of those politician types? Like that guy there,” and suddenly he was pointing to someone in the crowd, mid-twenties and wearing a suit, “whereas Orla’s type would more be one of those cheerleader types?”

And all of a sudden, Blue and Henry were pointing out people in the crowd and making jokes about who anyone would date. Gansey met Adam’s gaze over Blue’s shoulder and Adam knew they were both wishing that they could be a little more subtle about it. Gansey’s ears were pink in secondhand embarrassment. Adam felt torn between sliding down into his chair and laughing.

“That girl there,” Blue exclaimed, pointing at one of the French woman skaters. “Adam, wouldn’t you date her?”

Adam hazarded a look and barely caught a glimpse of blonde hair and a midnight blue costume of thin material. She seemed to blend in with plenty of other figure skaters Adam had seen over the years. “Sure,” he said half heartedly, knowing a positive was more quick to end the discussion more than an analysis as to why not.

“What are you four doing?” Helen, bless her soul, interrupted as she took her seat next to him.

“Helen!” Gansey immediately latched out a change in the subject and said, “Which country do you think will gain the most points by lunch?”

The safer topic began just as the introductions began and Adam looked forward to a long day in front of him.

* * *

With a combination of Orla’s skate and Henry and Blue’s ice dance to a collage of ABBA songs, the US was looking well positioned. They had slowly inched their way up to third and could possibly aim for second depending on how many points Kavinsky lost Russia and how many Adam gained. With that weight on his shoulders, Adam made his way down to the rink while the others got lunch and practiced before the next round.

He was nervous but even without much focus, he found that his feet could carry him through the routine almost flawlessly due to how often he had practiced.

The lack of focus could be attributed to lack of Ronan Lynch who still hadn’t shown up for his practice time. The lack of focus also came from Adam’s attention on Kavinsky who _had_ showed up and seemed to be relaxing against a rail as if he already knew he had the competition in the bag.

Was Lynch okay? Had something happened the night before that he wasn’t able to recover from? Did Kavinsky sabatosh him or was he just as casually arrogant in that he thought he didn’t have to show or practice in order to make a good performance?

Most pressingly, Adam wondered, was whether or not he should have done something. But Kavinsky exchanged sly grins with a couple others on the Russian team that clearly spoke levels of how best it was to stay away. Getting involved would have only gone wrong.

“Adam!” Noah called and Adam reluctantly turned from his anxiousness to a blur of white skating towards him. “You ready? Final match before the team totals are official! Of course, Czech is not going to win, but I’m really ready for this skate, you know? I’m finally over that Whelk event. And if I can score well on this, it means I proved something, right?”

Noah didn’t know how much Adam could understand. “That’s great,” he said genuinely. “Your skate the other day was really cool too.”

The smile Noah gave him was so bright and proud that Adam would have almost guessed he had never received that compliment before. He thought maybe Noah was just that kind of person but made a mental note to compliment him more anyway.

“Thanks!” He exclaimed. “Not as cool as yours though, you got the most points of all of us! You’re the one to beat today. And for the men’s event, I guess.”

“Not Lynch, or Kavinsky?” Adam asked skeptically.

“Them too,” was the immediately reply, tossed out as if it were just to be blown away for a later thought. “But I’ve skated Ronan before. He’s a real sweetheart, there’s no need to worry about him.”

Adam wasn’t sure whether to translate that into sarcasm but was saved from trying to fit the word “sweetheart” with “Ronan Lynch” but someone passing by telling them to get ready for the competition.

Noah saluted and placed himself outside the rink to stretch before his turn as Adam made his way to the seats.

“Adam!” Someone called, and when he looked up, his team was leaning down from the auditorium seating to grin at him. They were all cheering at him. Adam rolled his eyes.

The competition began.

A couple skaters went first, followed by Noah who was immediately put at the top of the board much to the delight of the crowds and to himself. Adam gave him a high five as he passed on his way to some more of the seating. A few more went and then Kavinsky, who piled on jumps when they would earn him more points and slid his way across the ice in the strange weightlessly heavy way that he was known for. It got him points however and he was placed ahead of Noah.

Adam should have been nervous. He _was_ nervous. He could gain the US team a silver if only he could get far enough ahead of Kavinsky. As a way of calming himself down, he did the math in his head. It was plausible.

It was then that Ronan Lynch finally entered the auditorium, sneaking his way into a seat by the skater’s entrance. He caught Adam’s gaze as he looked over at the motion and looked away.

Adam stood when the person in front of him on the docket stepped out onto the ice. He did his quick practice routine. When it was finally his turn on the ice, he let himself glide out and ignored the feeling of Lynch watching him. He ignored the feeling of everyone watching him.

When he set into motion, he told the story of a boy lost in space and the story of a boy he once was. A twist around a burning sun, a leap over a shooting star, a glide around a planet. When he landed back on earth, he was met with a cheering crowd and the blue eyes of Ronan Lynch that felt distant and unknowing.

It was then that Adam first realized that something was off.

His score placed in front of Kavinsky’s but not by enough to place Team USA in the silver position. There was disappointment but also pride in that he was still leading the men’s category in points. Both he and the crowd knew that could change, depending on Lynch’s performance.

Adam had the sinking feeling, as well as a darkly smug one, as Lynch entered the rink that he would not be a challenge tonight.

And he wasn’t.

Lynch’s jumps were slightly off from the music and his movements unfocused. He felt like a wild thing that was destined to go so fast that it wouldn’t stop when it hit a cliff. This Ronan Lynch was the danger of the night time and not caring where you ended up.

Adam could still see the power in his movements and the potential in the way he twisted his body with every turn. But it felt dragged down by an unknown force that he was fighting from.

The anticipation and excitement from the crowd leaked into disappointment. As beautiful and savage as Lynch seemed, this no longer seemed like his escape but as if he were escaping something that chased him and threatened to tear his limbs back to the ground.

When Adam looked in Kavinsky’s direction, he could see the other man smirking, and immediately knew what had happened. Kavinsky had let Lynch fall in to deep and hadn’t pulled him out. He wouldn’t have been surprised if what he witnessed the other night was on purpose - a gloating meant to be his downfall. They had spent too long into the night with their drugs and their street races and now only Lynch would be investigated.

Adam never would have done anything but he should have.

The team event ended with a steady crawl. Lynch placed far behind Adam and Kavinsky. Noah ended up with the third highest amount of points but when Adam went to greet him, he didn’t look ecstatic but rather cast a glance in Lynch’s direction and quickly excused himself to go talk to him. Evidently the two knew each other fairly well if the way Lynch had grunted and let Noah stick around to talk to him was anything to go off of.

It was a shallow win if anything.

At the medal ceremony at the end of the day, Team USA accepted their bronze medals with grins and hugs.

“He made his own mistakes,” Blue reminded him, as an effort to coax forward a grin as well. “You deserve this, Adam.”

“You got the highest score out of all of us!” Henry cheered.

It was an accomplishment. It was what Adam had been hoping to get and what he hoped to bring forward into the individual events. He cast Lynch out of his mind and for once took in the moment long enough to let himself fill with pride.

The silver medal team, Russia, took their place across from them. Adam refused to look at Kavinsky despite his leering. Blue scoffed as if she were somehow surprised at being surprised as to how douchy their competing team was acting. Gansey refrained from comment but Adam saw him look over at Kavinsky anyway and make an unappealing face.

The winning team was Canada, much to Henry’s delight, who insisted on greeting every single member of their team as they stood on the pedestal. Predictably, the Canadians were much friendlier in return.

They posed for a picture as the winners, each holding up their team medal, and Adam felt its weight in his hand like something that should have been there all along. He hadn’t beaten Kavinsky by enough points for the win to fill satisfactory but he had done well. Better than well. His whole team had, in fact.

It was only when all the teams had dispersed and his own team had started off together to get some dinner that relief flooded his body and he truly smiled. He had done it.

* * *

 The Canadian’s, Henry assured, had wild parties. He had been to many, as evidenced by his many stories, and yet this, compared to his many stories, was better than all the rest. Reason being that this wasn’t just a Canadian party, this was an all-the-countries-in-the-world-invited party _hosted_ by the Canadians who were evidently known for having wild parties.

It was on top of a fancy hotel across the street with fairy lights strung up pole to pole, random objects and clothed people floating and splashing in the pool, red solo cups scattered across the floor, and some frat looking boys having found a pile of clean sheets and wearing them as togas. It was screaming music and singing crowds, waving together in a chaotic slur. It was a collage of language and culture and the universal language of celebration and getting drunk off their faces.

Adam didn’t really want to be there but evidently, this is what winners did and he had fought so hard to be here that it didn’t really make sense to leave.

Henry had wandered off to find some of his innumerable friends. Blue had wandered to the side of the pool in a pile of giggles while Gansey, as their designated driver and as someone who always had their eye on Blue anyway, followed. And Helen had also been roped into conversation with a couple other people from the skating events. That left Adam with Orla which was a rare occurrence considering at most parties, she’d already be flirting her way around the room.

His question as to why she had stuck around with boring ol’ Adam Parrish was answered when she leaned close to his ear, directing his side somewhere to the left and said with a low whistle, “God _damn_ Ronan Lynch.”

Adam had to agree. He had never really taken a full look at Lynch before when he was outside of the rink. Even with the strange lighting of the fairy lights of the corner he had hid himself in, the sharp lines of his tattoo wrapped around his neck threateningly, his eyes just as sharp. He clearly had money, as poorly as he was dressed, because his black tank top fit across his chest perfectly and his jeans looked sewn together with silver lining, the black hugging to his thighs as if they were made specifically for him. To Adam, everything about him looked as much to be protecting himself as keeping others away.

He was just as beautiful off the rink as he was on it.

Orla took Adam’s silence as encouragement to continue, eyeing Lynch head to toe, before slyly suggesting, “You have to introduce me.”

“Try it yourself,” Adam responded. “I don’t know him.”

Lynch’s posture dared people to approach and was terrifying enough that no one did. No one would ever be drunk enough to be able ignore his signals, especially after his performance that day. He wanted to be left alone or not to be here at all.

Adam could relate.

Maybe it just took someone as sober as Orla to make it past his barriers or so obviously ignore his glare as she approached. Adam sulked off to his own corner to watch in sadistic horror and glee as barely a word got out before Lynch was cutting it off with something.

A new tactic was employed. Orla brought a hand up to her hair to play with it coyly, all while looking up at Lynch with a smirk. Lynch did not play along. Another biting word, another tactic, and then a glare that spoke louder than anything he could have said would.

Three strikes, she was out.

“Gay, very drunk, playing hard to get, or a combination of two,” Orla huffed as she blew past Adam on her way to the drink stand. “I’ll try when he’s sober.”

Adam couldn’t help but laugh. When he looked over in Lynch’s direction again, he met his eyes as if the other had already been watching. Adam raised an eyebrow. Lynch drained the rest of his red solo cup, crushed it in his palm, and marched over to Adam very purposefully as he tossed it to the side carelessly. Adam refused to be impressed by his dramatics.

“Want to get out of here?” Lynch asked.

Humorously, Adam all of a sudden found himself with the answer to Orla’s question. Ronan Lynch was probably gay and definitely very, very drunk.

“Where?” He asked, letting himself play along.

Lynch paused as if he hadn’t actually thought about this part of the plan. Adam wouldn’t be surprised if he hadn’t. “The store,” he finally answered.

Adam blinked in surprise. “Why?”

“I need orange juice,” was the simple reply.

Adam weighed the pros and cons. Heading somewhere in a strange city with someone he didn’t really know, or satisfying the curiosity that the answer brought. It wasn’t a very hard choice to make.

“Sure,” he said, as opposed to the other option which was to stay at a party where he could barely hear anything and where everyone was super drunk. At least with Lynch, it would be quiet.

Lynch looked surprised at the answer but only let it last a minute, shrugging as if already blaming Adam for the consequences of his actions, and started off towards the elevator without so much as a warning. Adam looked around to see if anyone else had even bothered noticing this strange encounter and found, no, no one had. There was nothing left to do than to follow.

As he stepped into the elevator he shot off a text to the group chat.

 | _Adam: headed out early, I’ll see you at the hotel later tonight_

Immediately, his phone buzzed in reply.

 | _Henry: get itttttt !!!!_

 | _Blue: wait r u leaving w someone??_

 | _Gansey: Be safe._

Adam scoffed and quickly shot out a final clarifying text.

 | _Adam: not like that, I’m with Lynch. will update later._

Before he could overthink it, the elevator closed behind them and Adam turned off his phone and shoved it in his pocket.   

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Turns out Monday is the better day for my updates, so I have changed my description to that.
> 
> And NOW we get into the real story!! Loved writing this chapter tbh.


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